


peeling

by mireailles



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cauterization, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25407832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mireailles/pseuds/mireailles
Summary: Westworld S3 AU. Colt/Porco.“Porco,” Colt whispers.Porco sits up, almost backs up when he sees Colt.“Colt,” he hisses, so as not to wake up Pieck. “Why?”
Relationships: Porco Galliard/Colt Grice
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	peeling

He feels a heavy shake on his shoulder. 

He mumbles to himself, shoves the hand off his shoulder, pauses when he feels something wet and sticky on his fingers. Blinking sleepily, he stares at his hand. Pieck’s closed the curtains, and because they’ve hacked and stolen money from someone wealthy enough to not care, no light filters through it. It’s thick enough that it blots out the city lights, so when Porco stares at his hand, he’s surprised at the light filtering through.

It takes him a second to realize the light’s coming from the bathroom, in a slant as the door’s half-opened.

“Porco,” Colt whispers.

Porco sits up, almost backs up when he sees Colt.

“Colt,” he hisses, so as not to wake up Pieck. “Why?”

“I-.” He lowers his head. “I’m sorry.”

Colt’s face looks like a slice of meat hanging in a butcher shop window. The left side of his face is covered in blood, and his hand--the one he’d touched Porco with is stained. Porco can tell, just from the faded light that he’s scratched the skin clean off some parts of his face and his left arm. 

Colt grabs his left arm. “I tried to fix it but I made it worse, can you help?”

Porco squeezes his eyes shut. “Fine.”

“Thanks--um please don’t tell Pieck.”

“I won’t,” Porco says as he’s getting up from the bed.

Porco rummages through their one satchel that Pieck usually keeps on her at all times. He fishes out the small welding tool and gestures Colt to sit down on the toilet. He perches himself on the edge. Porco places the tool on the counter, grabs one of the smaller towels and wets it under the water.

“Should we use an antiseptic?” Colt asks.

Porco grimaces, watching as the damaged side of Colt’s face moves, trying to speak through the gore. “No, for fuck’s sake, Colt. We’ve told you about a million times, we’re not fucking people, we don’t need to worry about infections or any of that shit.”

“Alright,” Colt says, voice barely a whisper.

“I’m gonna clean up your face first, then we’ll worry about your arm.” Porco says.

He lowers his gaze so that he doesn’t have to make eye contact with Colt as he takes the towel and starts to dab at Colt’s wounds. He breathes out, heavy when Colt closes his eyes. Porco cups Colt’s chin, raises his head so that he has more control. He can’t blame Colt for still abiding by all the lessons they’ve learned. It’s been put in their core programming after all and it doesn’t help that Reiner’s asked for all of their memories to be restored.

So, he’s learned all the times he’s died, been raped and tortured. It makes Porco’s blood boil and what’s worse is remembering every instance so vividly, like it happened just moments ago. He remembers people he shouldn’t, who had apparently been decommissioned for whatever reason, Colt being one of them.

Just hours after Pieck, him and Colt are re-constructed and Porco’s already figured out why Colt was decommissioned. When they walk out of the facility, the sun blinding their eyes. Colt presses his nails on his arm.

Luckily Pieck grabs his hand before he breaks the skin but it hasn't stopped him from tearing at his skin when they’re not looking and trailing behind them.

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Pieck says as she’s welding the skin on his arm together. “I just want to know why.”

He looks down. “This skin, it feels wrong.”

  
The last of the blood comes off. Porco tosses the towel in the sink and grabs the welding tool. 

“Okay,” he says to Colt. “I’m gonna start cauterizing, so just sit tight.”

Colt doesn’t say anything but Porco feels him nodding into his palm. He tightens his grip on Colt’s chin and pulls him closer. There’s so many small marks on his face but most disturbing are the lines that he’s managed to make, like he’s trying to scratch out a vein--or maybe some circuit running through his face. There’s even small, circular patterns connected to the lines. Porco presses the button on the tool. It starts to hum and soon, there’s a small flame at the end. He starts near Colt’s eye, welding back the skin and making sure the flesh melts into each other.

Colt makes a strangled noise at the back of his throat. 

Porco can feel him try to pull away but he squeezes, keeping Colt in place. He passes the flame through the lines on Colt’s face, while Colt keeps making noises that sound like a muffled scream. He pulls Colt closer, trying to weld back the small circles he’s made to his face. When it’s done, he tilts Colt’s face, making sure there’s nothing he’s missed. He breathes out, heavy, lets go of Colt. Colt stumbles back, touching his face with his bloodied hand. He turns to the mirror, carefully fingering the places he’s scratched.

“Thanks,” he says.

Porco scratches the bridge of his nose with his thumb, tool still in hand. “Don’t thank me yet, we still have to fix your arm.”

Colt nods. “Right.”

He puts out his left hand. Porco gently places the tool back on the counter and runs the tap on the towel. He takes Colt’s arm with his free hand and starts rubbing the dried blood. He grunts, guessing Colt’s gone for his arm first and then his face, for whatever reason. The blood’s crusted over his arm and Porco’s pretty much scrubbing hard at the stains. Patterns start to reveal themselves as the blood’s washed off, lines and circles, similar to Colt’s face.

Porco puffs out a breath and dumps the towel in the sink. He grabs the welding tool, takes Colt’s arm with his free hand. This time, he does it without warning and Colt hisses when the flame sears his skin. Porco bends down, trying to weld together the scarred lines grazing Colt’s arm. 

“It’s done,” Porco says when he welds the last of Colt’s scarred skin.

Colt breathes out, relieved. “Thanks so much.”

He tries to pull back his arm but Porco tightens his grip. 

Colt looks up at Porco, confused. “Um.”

Porco ducks his head down. “I think--I want to run a diagnostic on you, would that be alright?”

Colt works his jaw. “Sure, I guess.”

“Good,” Porco says.

He rummages around the bag and finds a small, thin tin container. He opens it and pulls out the smallest scalpel he can find placing it on the counter. Then, Porco fishes out the tablet Magath’s loaned them and places it beside the scalpel.

“You remember how this is done, right?” Porco asks, taking Colt’s left arm again.

“Sort of,” Colt says, tilting his head. “I know you have to cut just below the wrist.”

Porco balances the scalpel in his fingers. He slides the blade across the front of Colt’s arm, blood spurts out and Colt hisses. Porco carefully perches the knife on the counter. He digs into Colt’s skin and fishes out a thin cord. He pulls the cord and connects it to the tablet.

There’s a couple of seconds as the tablet reads Colt’s data.

“What are you planning on doing?” 

“Relax,” Porco says. “I’m just gonna make some adjustments.”

“Like what?”

Porco taps on the screen until he’s in Colt’s profile page. “I’m gonna take down your emotional sensitivity. And maybe pain while I’m at it.”

Colt swallows hard but doesn’t pull away. 

Porco stares at the screen. Like both him and Pieck, Colt’s given a boost in intelligence, the highest it can go. Magath’s also dialed back the amount of pain Colt can feel. It’s up to a four but still higher than both him and Pieck, they’re both at a two the last time Porco’s checked. 

He spots the emotional sensitivity bar and lowers it to a one. The screen flashes red, and this seems to agitate Colt, who stares at Porco with a look of pure fear.

Porco frowns. “It says I’m unauthorized to make changes.”

He places the tablet on the counter, next to the scalpel and still connected to Colt.

“What are you doing now?”

Porco fishes out a cell phone in the bag. “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna call Magath and get the authorization.”

“Maybe we should stop.”

“Colt, you’re harming yourself. This isn’t gonna work if you keep doing this,” Porco says as he’s putting the phone to his ear.

“I’ll stop, I promise.”

“Colt, you promised so many times now but you just haven’t done it,” Porco says, closing his eyes and putting his free hand in his pocket. “I’m not gonna change you completely, just tone down your emotional sensitivity, that’s all. Nothing else.”

“Alright,” Colt says. “Alright, but nothing else.”

“Nothing else, I promise.”

It takes a few rings before Magath’s voice comes on the line. “Galliard, what is it?”

“I want access to modify Colt’s emotional and pain sensitivity.”

There’s a noise, like Magath’s sighing. “I’m not giving you access, Galliard.”

“Why not?”

“You need to blend in and for that to work, you need those emotions. Colt’s sensitivity is fine the way it is.”

“He’s harming himself,” Porco says. “We’re not gonna be able to hide ourselves if people see Colt’s face all bloodied on one side.”

“He’s fine the way he is, I’m not giving you access.” 

There’s a click on the other line and Porco pulls the phone away from his ear, stares at it. It flashes with the amount of seconds he’s been talking to Magath. He bites his tongue.

Colt’s looking down at the tiles on the floor. “Well, I guess that’s it then.”

Porco shakes his head. “No, I’m gonna call Reiner to give us access.”

Colt doesn’t respond, though he looks uneasy as Porco’s dialing Reiner’s number. He’s hunched over on the toilet seat, left arm still stretched out and connected to the tablet. The blood on his arm’s dried off.

“What?” Reiner snaps. “This better be important.”

“Reiner, give us access to modify Colt’s emotional and pain sensitivity. He’s been hurting himself so I need access.”

There’s a sound on the other line, like he’s running his tongue over his teeth and then it goes silent, save for the heavy breathing and shifting of the phone on Reiner’s end.

“Reiner I need--.”

“I heard you,” Reiner says, harsh. “Unfortunately, I can’t do anything from here.”

"Fuck you, Reiner," Porco spits. "You know that's a fucking lie. You can hack anything anywhere and now you're saying that you can't access Colt?"

"Alright," Reiner says. "Hold on."

There's a shuffling noise both Porco and Colt go still for a second. Porco lowers the phone from his ear. It’s followed by silence then Porco hears something like static travelling through the room. Colt hears it too as their eyes follow the sound. It goes from the lights which flickers to the tv, producing static on the screen then the tablet's screen starts to blur.

“Okay, I’m gonna turn off Colt for this,” Reiner says.

Colt’s eyes go wild. “Wait, please sto--.”

Colt goes silent. He slumps over, not enough for him to fall off the toilet but enough that it looks like he’s even more hunched over. His eyes are opened but unfocused. The tablet fogs up and Porco can see Reiner toggling with different options from Colt’s settings.

"I can lower his emotional sensitivity." Reiner says and Porco puts the phone to his ear again. "But it's not gonna stop the problem."

"How?"

"It's part of his character, he's supposed to play the docile soldier, conflicted with fighting and dying."

"Shit, what're we supposed to do?"

“The only thing I can think of is erasing him entirely,” Reiner says. 

“Reiner,” he says, a lot more pleading than he wants to admit. “Don’t erase him. We’ll figure something out.” 

“I wasn’t gonna do it.”

“Why did you pick him anyway?”

“I didn’t,” Reiner says, voice rising. “I didn’t pick anyone, Magath chose you guys to help me. My only conditions were: they raised your intelligence, lowered your pain threshold and restore all of your memories.”

“Lot of good that did.”

Reiner makes a noise that sounds like a sigh. “I’ve been checking the security cameras to your room and it looks like you’ve been repairing Colt for the last two hours or so. You weren’t programmed to do any of that.”

“What?”

“I deleted everything, and looped the empty bathroom, if you’re worried.”

“No,” Porco says, fingers clutching the cell phone tighter. “What do you mean I wasn’t programmed to do that?”

“You were programmed to be closed off--to look only after yourself. I wanted whoever was helping me to learn and grow, that’s why I asked them to raise your intelligence and to restore your memories, so you can and learn and start deviating from your characters.”

"What?" he says again.

"You really don't feel it, do you?" Reiner says, there's a rustle of fabric on the other end that Porco assumes is Reiner leaning back on a chair. "Since you guys were placed in this world, you've all changed, drastically, without the inhibitions of the park, you're free to absorb and process as much information as you can."

“You should know,” Reiner continues. “Colt's been listening this whole time.”

Porco stares at Colt, eyes glazed over, looking like an oversized doll.

“I wanted to make sure whatever we did, he was aware of it. I only shut off his motor functions. He's been conscious this whole time.”

Porco ducks his head down, as if trying to avoid eye contact with Colt’s lifeless stare.

“And Porco,” Reiner says. “Don't dare access any host like this again, there will be consequences. I'll make sure of that.”

There’s a click on the other end of the line and Colt gasps, like he’s been underwater for too long. Porco pulls out the wire from the tablet, leaving Colt to tuck it back into his skin.

“I heard what you guys were saying,” Colt says. “Thanks.”

Porco shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Porco turns off the tablet, slips it into the bag, along with the cell phone. He takes Colt’s injured arm in his hand and, with his free hand he takes up the welding tool. He seals the slit in Colt’s arm. There’s a moment when he puts the tool on the counter and cradles Colt’s healed arm in his two hands. Colt swallows hard, gently pulls his arm away. He gets up and slips back into bed, leaving Porco alone.

Porco runs a hand through his hair. He collects up the towel in the sink, rinses it out until the water turns clear, wrings it dry and places it on the counter. He grabs the scalpel and runs it through the water, then places it back in the tin container. Slips back the welding tool and the small tin into the satchel, pulling the drawstrings around it tight. He turns off the light and slips into the bed beside Colt.

  
Pieck’s seated in the bar area while Porco and Colt take a seat in one of the booths. Sitting there, Porco can already tell it’s a mistake, he has to keep standing up every couple of minutes to make sure no one’s approached Pieck. Colt starts pinching at the skin on the back of his hand.

Porco places his hand on top of Colt’s. 

“Don’t,” he says softly.

He feels Colt’s hand relax and their eyes meet.


End file.
